


How You Remind Me

by wesleysgirl



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:50:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Luvs, who wanted D/s with Wesley and Giles. Many thanks to Jane Davitt for the beta and advice.</p>
    </blockquote>





	How You Remind Me

**Author's Note:**

> For Luvs, who wanted D/s with Wesley and Giles. Many thanks to Jane Davitt for the beta and advice.

  
  
Wesley hadn't realized how bad things had become until they'd been going on for far too long, and Giles, of course, was the one who ended up pointing it out to him.

He always was. 

Wesley came home from the office after yet another twelve hour shift, so weary that it took him three tries to get his key into the lock. He stepped inside and blinked at Giles, who was standing in the opposite doorway with a complicated expression on his face -- part worry, part irritation, part disappointment, Wesley thought. 

"You're late," Giles said. 

"I know," Wesley said. "Sorry. It was one of those days." 

"You've been having too many of those days lately," Giles said, coming over and helping Wesley shrug out of his jacket. 

"It's just that things have been crazy," Wesley said. He was aware of the way his brain was spinning -- too much to do and not enough time in which to do it, and it had been so long since he'd had a proper day off. "I've got that deadline with the translation for Kearns, and another job came in this afternoon..." His hands were shaking. 

Giles nodded thoughtfully. "And you haven't been sleeping." 

"Not much." Wesley rubbed at his temples, wondering if a drink might help slow things down. "I just... I can't stop thinking." He lifted his face and looked at Giles helplessly. 

"I know what you need," Giles said, touching Wesley's cheek gently. Then, in a tone of voice Wesley hadn't heard in so long it felt like years, although it was probably closer to three months, "Take off your shoes." 

Part of Wesley wanted to protest -- he was too tired to play -- but he nodded and did as Giles said, toeing off his shoes. 

"I think we'll start with a shower and go from there," Giles said. "Come along." Without another word, he turned and headed for the bathroom, and Wesley followed along at his heels obediently. 

Old habits, it would seem, died hard. 

"No," Giles said sharply when Wesley began to unbutton his shirt. "I want to do it." 

Wesley dropped his hands to his sides. 

Slowly, taking his time about it, Giles began to remove Wesley's clothing. First his shirt, then his undershirt, leaving him bare-chested and shivering in the cold bathroom. He could feel the chill of the tile beneath his feet, even through his socks. Giles undid his belt and trousers, let them drop to the floor, then palmed Wesley's shockingly interested cock through the thin fabric of his briefs. "Do the rest yourself," Giles told him. "And wait here." 

Giles disappeared, leaving Wesley to take off his briefs and socks. After that, he waited. And waited. He couldn't hear Giles moving about in the flat anymore. The bathroom seemed to be growing colder by the minute, his hands curling into loose fists as he shivered, naked and alone and beginning to wonder if Giles was even more disappointed in him than he'd previously thought. 

Twice, he nearly moved to the doorway, nearly called out, but both times he reminded himself that _this_ was what Giles wanted -- for him to wait. Somehow, he managed it, but he felt weak with relief when he finally heard Giles in the hallway. 

"Turn around," Giles said, coming into the bathroom, and Wesley automatically did so, then felt even colder metal being fastened around his wrists. "There," Giles said with satisfaction, giving the handcuffs a tug that caused Wesley's shoulders to twinge in protest. "All right. Let's get you cleaned up." 

Stripping off his own clothes efficiently, Giles got the water running and gestured at Wesley to step in. It wasn't until the first drops of water hit him that he realized it was _cold_. He recoiled, but Giles' hand was at his back, leaving him nowhere to go. 

"Don't want you falling asleep before I'm through," Giles explained, as if expecting someone to step into a cold shower in the middle of winter was completely natural. "Go on, get in." 

It took everything Wesley had not to refuse; he stepped in and began to shiver immediately, his erection wilting as his cock attempted, quite reasonably, to retreat. The shivering made his shoulders ache, and he felt as if he were being turned into an icicle, but he clenched his teeth together and bore it for what felt like an eternity. Then, suddenly, the water switched over to hot, and Wesley sighed with relief as Giles got into the shower with him, one hand on his hip. 

"Good," Giles murmured, and his approval was more warming than the water. "Good. Tilt your head back -- I'm going to wash your hair." 

Even with his hands behind his back, it felt incredibly good to have Giles' fingers running through his hair, which was rather in need of a cut. Wesley closed his eyes and tried to relax as best he could, knowing that if he kept his shoulders too tense he'd suffer for it later. When his hair was rinsed clean, Giles turned him so that his face was to the wall and began to slide soapy hands over his skin. 

Initially, Giles' touch was impersonal, but that quickly changed when his fingers found Wesley's nipples and began to torment them with hard pinches that had Wesley gasping and tensing, his erection returning with a vengeance. 

"Need to be sure that I do a thorough job," Giles said. He slipped his hands up into Wesley's armpits to wash them; somehow that seemed so painfully intimate that Wesley found his eyes filling with tears. He trembled when Giles washed his chest and back, then groaned loudly when Giles slid a soapy finger into his arse without warning. 

Giles fucked him like that, first with one finger and then two, for a long time. He did it in that way he had, as if he wasn't even thinking about the fact that Wesley was panting and shuddering. Somehow that made it all the hotter and even more difficult for Wesley not to come, which he knew without being told that he wasn't permitted to do, not now, not like this. 

When Giles finally stopped, Wesley moaned. His shoulders were aching and his hands were going a bit numb and his cock was so hard that he thought it might shatter into a million pieces. Or maybe it was all of him that was like that, wound up at Giles' command and suffering blissfully for it. 

"That should do," Giles said, as casually as if he were talking about his choice of marmalade at the supermarket, and twisted the shower off. 

Wesley was cold again as he followed Giles to the bedroom, his skin and hair still dripping with water, but when Giles opened the door a wave of blessed warmth wafted over him, and for a moment Wesley nearly forgot where he was. Still in the shower, with Giles' fingers inside him? 

No. Now he was on his knees, hands still firmly fastened behind his back, and Giles was prying his mouth open with a rough thumb. Giles' cock was between his lips, sliding over his tongue, his eyes watering as he struggled to remember to breathe. 

He lost himself then. His own cock was hard and insistent between his legs, and his shoulders and wrists hurt, and even his knees were being rubbed a bit raw by the carpet he was kneeling on, but those were all little things. The only thing that mattered was Giles, and Wesley _wanted_ to be lost in him. He existed only for that. 

He was vaguely aware of his whimper when Giles pulled away without coming. His mouth and throat felt empty, bereft, and his shoulders screamed in agony as he was hauled to his feet and pushed down onto the bed. First kneeling, then shoved forward, and with his hands locked behind his back he couldn't do anything but topple forward onto his face, arse in the air and the fabric of the duvet against his cheek. 

Again, Wesley waited. 

Not long this time, though; it was a minute at most before Giles was sliding something slick and cold and hard into him, something so utterly unexpected that he flinched. "Don't move," Giles ordered, and he froze, gasping open-mouthed as Giles worked the long, narrow dildo in and out of him quickly. 

Wesley's entire body was tense. He moaned when the dildo rubbed over his prostate, arching his back even though it hurt to do so. 

"I'm going to fuck you," Giles said softly, laying his free hand on Wesley's arse and caressing it. "So hard that you'll still feel it three days from now." 

"Please," Wesley breathed, although he wasn't supposed to speak. Giles punished him by shoving the dildo deeper, twisting it inside him until Wesley sobbed, pressing his face to the duvet to muffle the sound. There wasn't an inch of him that didn't ache; his need for Giles to fuck him was a physical pain, but he couldn't move, couldn't beg. 

Giles stroked his flank. "You're beautiful like this," he said. "Bent over, so eager for me that you're shaking with it. It makes me want you more than I've ever wanted anyone in my life." 

Wesley whimpered and bit his lip, silently pleading, and Giles must have decided to take pity on him because the next thing he knew the dildo was gone and then Giles' thick cock was pressing into him, stretching him wide. 

"God, yes," Giles murmured, sounding as in control as he ever did. One hand was on Wesley's hip and the other tugged at the handcuffs. He pulled back and shoved forward again, then again, and Wesley cried out. "Just another minute. One more. You can do it." 

The encouragement made it a bit easier, but only a bit. Wesley breathed in a series of harsh gasps, trembling with the effort to hold back as Giles fucked him more roughly, jerking on his wrists until his body sang with pain and pleasure. 

"Now," Giles said, and Wesley came, shaking and crying and falling apart, only dimly aware that Giles was coming, too. 

He floated, drifting, the pieces of himself slowly reconnecting until he could hear Giles saying something. 

"Wesley. _Wesley._ " 

"Mmph?" Wesley managed. 

Giles' hands were at his wrists. "I'm going to undo these now. Can you feel your hands at all?" There was concern in his voice again. 

"No." There was a click, then some fumbling with the handcuffs, and Wesley's hands were freed. Giles held them, eased them carefully down toward the bed, and Wesley made an inadvertent pained sound as the blood rushed back into his fingers. 

"Easy." Giles got him onto his side and sat massaging his hands gently while the tissue prickled and burned its way back to life; it hurt, but Wesley knew that it was temporary. "Better?" Giles asked finally, and Wesley nodded. "You should say something next time, you know." 

Wesley smiled faintly. "I know." 

"You really are terrible at taking care of yourself." Giles lay down and pulled Wesley into his arms, stroking a hand along his spine. In a stern voice, he went on, "That changes as of today. You're to be home on time every night for the next two weeks." 

There were a dozen things Wesley could say to that, but he just said, "Yes, Giles." 

"Good. Don't worry; I won't let you forget." Giles kissed him, and Wesley snuggled closer and accepted the kiss gratefully, secure in the knowledge that Giles would always be there to provide reminders when he needed them.  
  
  
  
End.


End file.
